


I'm Your Boogie Man

by Jmeelee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Sterek Week 2017, sterekhalloween3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 05:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jmeelee/pseuds/Jmeelee
Summary: Five times Derek and Stiles ended up accidentally wearing couples costumes on Halloween, and the one Halloween they ended up a couple.





	I'm Your Boogie Man

**Author's Note:**

> For Sterek Week 2017, Day 7: Halloween
> 
> ::aggressively sings 'THIS IS HALLOWEEN' at you::

**1\. Jail bait**

You really can't blame Stiles for the first Halloween, even though Derek tries to. He’s seventeen for Christ’s sake, of _course_ he thinks it's hilarious to wear a prison jumpsuit as his costume. Endless jokes and tasteless teenage rebellion are at his disposal. His father, the Sheriff, eyerolls so hard he probably sees his own brain when Stiles comes bounding down the stairs in all his day-glow glory. 

“The true crime is that fluorescent orange really isn't your color, son,” he lovingly imparts as Stiles grabs the keys to the Jeep. “Be safe.”

Another added bonus is that the cotton jumpsuit is super comfy, and he can wear his favorite sneakers. He kinda feels bad for all his lady friends who squeeze themselves into barely there outfits and towering, spiky heels.

And the best part of the whole ensemble? The word PRISONER is spelled out in blocky white screen-printed letters, but instead of being located across his shoulders, it's splashed across his _butt_. So now he has a plethora of under-eighteen jail bait jokes to bestow on unsuspecting party-goers, too. This costume is a definite win-win. 

Or it was, until he steps into Derek's loft and Erica, Isaac and Jackson all take one look at him and spit out their drinks simultaneously, bursting into hysterical laughter. If Stiles didn't know how much they all hated each other, he'd have thought they practiced that move all afternoon. Even Alison, dressed as a slutty Little Red Riding Hood, comes over to gape at him.

“Jealous you can't rock a one piece?” He snarks at them.

“Um, no Stiles. That’s not it,” Allison replies, trying to hide a smirk behind her red solo cup, but her dimples give her away. 

“Well, what's your problem? I think I look _great_.”

“Yeah, Stilinski?” Jackson, dressed as a gangster, laughs meanly. “I’m sure your boyfriend will appreciate it.”

They all start to titter again, and Stiles scowls at them each in turn. He recently came out to the whole pack as bisexual, and it's really shitty of Jackson to make a joke out of it. “Very funny, douche.” 

“We’re not making fun of you, Stiles,” Erica tells him when she notices Stiles’ mounting ire. He takes a moment to appreciate her spandex Catwoman costume. “We’re really making fun of Derek.”

“What?” He is so confused. Maybe they are all super drunk, and Stiles will be able to better follow their perplexing line of humor when he has chugged a few beers. “What does my costume have to do with Derek?”

In a frankly terrifying hive mind gesture, they all raise their arms and point toward the windows, where the amateur sound equipment is set up. “You guys are creepy as fuck tonight. What am I loo-”

And then he sees Derek, standing against the cracked plaster wall with his huge arms laced across his chest, and a pout on his lips. But unfortunately, Stiles can't pay attention to those lovely assets at the moment, because Derek is wearing a police officer uniform. 

A squeak that would earn him the wrong kind of friends in jail tears from his throat. “Oh, hell no,” he growls, and stomps his way over to where Derek is hovering menacingly, radiating doom and gloom like an atomic bomb.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He shouts to be heard over the booming baseline of _Dragula_. He doesn't really have to yell- Derek could hear him just fine with his wolfy senses- but yelling feels good right about now.

Derek looks him over once, toes to head, and huffs. “Wow, Stiles,” he deadpans, “really original costume idea.”

Stiles shoves a palm into Derek's hard pectoral. “Hey!” he shouts, indignant. “This is a great costume. It's _ironic_.” He turns around and wiggles his PRISONER clad butt, feeling vicious satisfaction when Derek’s eyes drop down to take it all in.

His gaze quickly slides back up to Stiles’ face. “More like moronic, if you ask me.”

Stiles spins back around. “Yeah? Well lucky you, no one did. And you’re one to talk. You’re dressed as a stupid cop.”

Derek graces him a contemptuous frown. “You think your father’s career choice is stupid?”

“No! I think you and your costume choice are stupid. Why the hell would you choose to be a cop?”

“I'm the only adult hosting a party for a bunch of teenagers and supplying them with booze.” He looks at Stiles and smiles his fake smile, the one with lots of white bunny teeth. “It's _ironic_.”

“Oh, fuck you Derek. We match! This is _not_ acceptable. People might get the wrong idea about us, and I was really hoping to get at least a little action tonight. Stop cock-blocking the convict!”

“Go home and change if it bothers you so much.”

“I'm not driving all the way back home when you can just jump into your bedroom and throw on one of the five hundred pieces of black clothing you own and call it a day.”

Derek takes a sip of his drink, head tipping back and throat working smoothly as he swallows. Stiles kinda hates himself for watching. “Nope. If you have a problem, you go change.”

“God damn it, Derek! Take off your costume!” Because the universe hates him, the song currently playing ends at the exact moment that unfortunate line leaves Stiles’ lips, and there are two very, very long seconds of silence before the next one begins, in which every person at the party hears Stiles demand that Derek remove his clothes. Sixty pairs of eyes land on them. Jackson’s somewhere in the crowd, laughing like a hyena.

The next song is a slow jam, and it's significantly quieter than the last, so everyone also hears some girl in a pink wig and sexy Rainbow Brite costume coo loudly and shout to her girlfriend at the keg across the room, “Oh my gawd! How cute is that? They wore couples costumes, too! I told you we wouldn’t be the only ones.” The girlfriend is dressed as Twink, and yes, Stiles can appreciate the irony, thank you very much.

Stiles turns to glower at Derek, giving new meaning to the term ‘if looks could kill’. “I hope you are happy, Officer Hale.” Stiles’ only consolation is that Derek's cheeks have turned as rosy as Rainbow Brite's wig.

He stomps out of the apartment, cursing the whole way home. So much for the perfect costume. Hopefully the Spider-Man suit he wore when he was fourteen still fits. 

**2\. Yer a wizard, baby**

Scott is hosting this years Halloween bash at his new place, and Derek is stoked to be able to show up fashionably late, wave his proverbial hat around, then go home and finish reading _The Return of the King_. Last years party had trashed his loft, and he's so glad he won't have to deal with cheap beer being spilled on the hardwood floors he just refinished.

Scott opens the door and sputters at the sight of Derek in his long grey robe and fake beard, and goes pink to the tips of his ears.

“What? You didn’t forget you invited me, did you?” Scott is such a dipshit. Maybe this means Derek can go home even earlier?

“Are you… are you…” He leans closer to Derek to whisper. “Are you dressed as Dumbledore?” 

Derek is momentarily floored by the fact that Scott has read a book over thirty-two pages and knows who Dumbledore is. “No,” he insists, once he’s recovered from shock. “I'm Gandalf.” Scott looks bewildered. “Gandalf is from _The Lord of the Rings_.”

“Oh… okay. Well… I think Stiles is going to be really pissed.”

“He’s not a hobbit, is he?”

Stiles pops up behind Scott’s shoulder, dressed as Harry Potter, or maybe as a random Gryffindor student since Derek sees no lightening bolt scar on his forehead. His red and yellow tie is adorably crooked, which immediately pisses Derek off. 

Stiles looks ready to have an aneurysm. “Really man? Dumbledore? Come on!”

“I'm Gandalf!” Derek shouts, and wonders how his life has come down to arguing with teenagers over his choice in Halloween costumes two years in a row. 

“Yeah, _sure_ you are. Go home and change, asshole. It’s your turn this year.”

This is the perfect opportunity to make it back to his couch earlier than expected, but Derek, ever contrary, pushes past Scott and Stiles into the living room. He heads straight to the kitchen to acquire some much needed wolfsbane-laced liquor.

No less than twelve people yell, “Hey, looks it's Dumbledore!” at him on his way to the back of the apartment. The Rainbow Brite girl that embarrassed them last year looks ready to cry with happiness as Derek stalks past. This year she is decked out in a sexy toga with a gold leaf crown, and her girlfriend is a gladiator. 

“Did you lose Harry?” Erica asks him when Derek bursts into the kitchen in righteous fury. She is dressed as a less slutty version of a playboy bunny, but it's still pretty slutty.

“Shut up,” he snarls. 

As he chugs his drink, she starts to sing a song that names all of the Harry Potter characters. It's annoyingly catchy. Stiles walks in half way through and joins her, flailing around and yelling, “Harry Potter, Harry Potter, unh! Harry Potter Harry Potter, yeah!”

“I'm so mad. I should have just stayed home,” Derek grumbles into his cup. He could be cuddled up with a blanket and book right now. And a full bag of Twix!

“Aw, Derek,” Stiles chirps. “Don’t be angry. It's Halloween, the best holiday of the year. You gotta be happy.” He snorts. “And don't forget, ‘Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light!’”

Derek dumps the rest of his drink over Stiles’ head on his way out the door.

**3\. Luke, I am your daddy**

The third Halloween falls during a pretty important year for Stiles. A new Star Wars film is being released at Christmastime, and Stiles is going to kill two birds with one costume. He's wearing his awesome Luke Skywalker outfit to both Scott’s annual Halloween party, and to the midnight movie premier. 

He doesn't bother to knock when he gets to Scott's apartment door, just walks in and takes a look around. _Monster Mash_ is playing, and there are a ton of people already milling around. He is not surprised to see three Hans Solo’s and four Darth Vader's present. 

He gives the Darth Vader picking at the cheese tray the hairy eyeball, then stomps over. It's not surprising that he would recognize _dat ass_ \- Stiles is a man of discerning taste after all- but it's mildly disconcerting that he recognizes it _under_ the long black cape.

“Derek, that better not be you in there, or I swear to God this light saber will see the dark side.”

Darth turns around and raises his breathing mask. It’s Derek.

“Really, dude? Star Wars is _my_ thing.” He's whining, and it's really unbecoming for a twenty-year-old, but he can't seem to stop. “Couldn't you have just been Dumbledore again?”

Derek looks unreasonably pleased. “I was Gandalf. And hey! This is great!” He motions between them, excitedly.

“On what planet in a galaxy far far away is this in any way great?”

“No one will think we are a couple this year! They can’t accuse us of being boyfriends if we are father and son!”

Stiles puts a consoling hand on Derek’s broad shoulder. “Oh my sweet summer child. Have you really never read a fanfiction?”

Derek’s furry caterpillar eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead. “Huh? But we’re _related_. Why would anyone think-”

Since Derek and Stiles are both beacons of ridiculousness, the Rainbow Brite girl from the first Halloween walks by. This year she is dressed as a dominatrix. “Ohhh you guys went kinky this year! I love it.”

Derek looks dumbfounded. “Who is she and why is she at all our parties?” Stiles squeezes the shoulder he is still holding. 

“It’s a mystery for the ages, man. Now come on Daddy, let's go get a drink.”

**4\. If there’s grass on the field, play ball**

This year they wised up, and called each other two weeks before the big day to double and triple check that their costumes could in no way be misconstrued as a pair. Derek is a New York Mets player, and Stiles is a vampire. It’s kind of cliche and he takes some ribbing from Jackson about whether or not he sparkles in sunlight, but it's worth it. The way the pinstripe pants hug his ass is obscene and the costume has the coolest short, jagged cape which attaches to his wrists. He simply could not resist when he saw it in the party warehouse. 

So, all in all, it's a perfect party, if a little boring. He hasn’t even seen Derek, which is kind of a travesty. The sour wolf is starting to grow on him a little. 

They do end up finding each other before the end of the night. They are both a bit tipsy, and somehow end up in a fierce competition of who can catch the most pieces of candy corn in their mouths. Stiles has several dirty jokes he desperately wants to make about how much Derek can fit in his mouth, but he needs to swallow first. 

Stiles is chewing his victorious mouthful of food coloring and corn syrup when Rainbow Brite walks up to them, eyes welling up under her fake eyelashes. She's a sexy monkey this year- at least Stiles thinks that's what she is?- and she places a manicured hand dramatically over her fur covered cleavage.

She looks like someone kicked her puppy in the face- and that someone was either Derek or Stiles. “Oh no! You aren’t wearing matching costumes this year. I’m so upset! Did you guys break up?”

Stiles, chewing furiously, looks to Derek to explain that they were never, in fact, together. That this has been a four year misunderstanding. But Derek is also chewing, shaking his head back and forth like an adorable puppy. Stiles is also going to make dog jokes once he swallows.

Rainbow Brite looks very confused, so Stiles holds his hands out away from his body in a universal gesture that says “eh, what the fuck can you do?” His jagged cape, attached to his wrists by large cuffs, spreads out around him.

Like a light switch flipping, Rainbow Brite’s whole face turns from grief to unadulterated joy. “Oh! Oh I get it!”

“Wha?” Stiles tries to say, and he's not proud of it but he drools a little. Candy corn is the devil! Why won’t it dissolve? 

Rainbow Brite points toward Stiles' cape, then back toward Derek, who looks like he is caught in the cross hairs of a hunter's bow. “You _do_ match.” She points to Derek’s Met’s uniform. “ _Baseball_.” She points to Stiles. “Vampire _Bat_.” She smiles brighter than the full moon, and _shit_ , she’s right, the cape totally looks like bat wings. How could Stiles not have noticed? “Baseball bat! I didn't get it at first, because you guys really stepped up your game this year.”

Stiles and Derek are frantically chewing and swallowing and shaking their heads.

Rainbow Brite exhales on a dreamy sigh. “You two are so creative! You have to invite me to your wedding!” 

Mouth finally free, Stiles turns to Derek. “Seriously?” He bemoans. “She doesn’t even go here.”

So Derek, a man of few words but much brash, idiotic action, grabs her around the middle, and throws her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. She laughs in delight. He marches her right out of Scott’s apartment. A moment later, Stiles sees a girl dressed in a tall yellow hat scurry out after them.

“Ohhhh,” he chuckles. “Curious George.” He really should learn this girls name. 

**5\. Captain of the Ship**

Derek isn't even surprised when he shows up at Scott’s and Stiles is decked out in a padded Captain America outfit, complete with plastic shield. He's very proud his own Winter Soldier outfit turned out so well. He spent weeks painting a red star and silver robotic plates onto the arm of one of his leather jackets, and it looks fucking amazing. Everyone tells him so, including Stiles.

He meanders up to Derek, smoothly fastening the bulky shield onto his back as he walks. Derek will never in a million years admit he finds the move sexy.

“So, Bucky and Steve this year, huh?”

Derek looks away. He doesn't want to fight anymore, hasn’t wanted to fight in a long time.

“Hey man, it's okay. I'm used to it by now.” He tries to bump Derek in the shoulder good-naturedly, but his costume is so padded he misses and hits the wall. 

Derek helps him straighten up, but doesn't remove his hands from Stiles’ stuffed biceps. “It’s cool, right? They are really good friends?”

Stiles is looking at him funny. "Yeah," he replies, after a beat of silence. "Yeah, Derek. Best friends.” Then Stiles blinks, startled. “We’re friends, too.”

They sip their drinks in contemplative silence, listening to the chorus of the Ghostbusters theme song blast from the speaker dock.

“So, last official Halloween party, huh?” Stiles finally says, breaking the silence. “Scott will be off to vet school next year, and Lydia and Jackson are heading to New York. Everyone is growing up.”

“And you’ll be in law school,” Derek provides.

Stiles huffs. “Yeah, hopefully.”

Derek waves a hand in the air like he is swatting away all of Stiles’ doubts and shortcomings. “Are you kidding? I've never met anyone who could argue like you do. There isn't a doubt in my mind you’ll get in, and make everyone immediately regret accepting you.”

Stiles laughs, his eyes crinkling up in the corners. He turns to fully face Derek, and there is a pink blush spreading across his cheeks. Derek kind of wants to lick him. “Thanks, for believing in me.” He takes another sip of his drink, like he's looking for courage in the bottom of his plastic cup. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure?”

“I’m glad we matched again this year. Seems like a shame to break tradition when we won't get another chance.”

Something goes tight and hot in Derek’s chest.

Around them, the entire party pauses dancing and drinking and talking to cohesively belt out, “ _Bustin’ make me feel good!_ ” Then there is a vigorous round of applause. 

When everyone resumes their former activities, Derek and Stiles smile softly at each other. “Why the hell would someone write that lyric?” Stiles laughs.

Derek shrugs. “ _Beats_ me.”

Stiles squints at him a moment, leans closer. “Derek Hale, you are a pretty funny dude. Wish I had realized this sooner. Glad I'm learning, though.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, leaning in, too; closing a distance that has lingered between them for five years. Their faces are inches apart, getting closer by the second, and Derek feels a little wild and crazy. “What else do you want to learn?”

Stiles’ eyes drop to Derek’s mouth, and Derek must be drunk and out of his mind because he moves to close the gap between them when-

“Stucky!!” Someone screams right beside them, and they both jump apart, guilty even though nothing happened. It’s Rainbow Brite. She's a sexy pregnant nun.

“Stucky?” Derek asks, mouth filled with cotton.

“Just go with it,” Stiles whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

“I ship you guys so fucking hard!” She screams, then waddles off toward a girl dressed like a priest. Derek wonders if she is really pregnant.

“What the hell was she talking about?”

Stiles is giggling unhelpfully.

“She _ships_ us? What ship is she talking about? The launch ship in the beginning of _The Winter Soldier_? The helicarriers?”

Stiles smiles at him again, a little exasperated and a little fond, and it's suddenly much too warm to be dressed in Kevlar pants and a leather jacket.

“Want to grab coffee with me tomorrow? I’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know about shipping.”

“Sure,” Derek quickly agrees. “It's a date.”

“Oh buddy,” Stiles laughs. “You have no idea.”

**+1 Debrief me**

This is probably a bad idea. No, scratch that, Derek thinks as he strips out of his jeans and Henley outside Stiles’ apartment door, this is a _terrible_ idea.

There is no Halloween party this year, the pack spread far and wide for school and life and love, so Derek has had to man up and take action. 

Stiles and Derek are closer now than they’ve ever been. Their weekly coffee meetings turned into monthly movies and random dinners and a few heated kisses before Stiles left for Santa Clara Law School, but it never progressed further. Every time they kissed they were drunk, and they never talked about it afterwards. They still call and text and Skype, sometimes daily, but Derek wants _more_ , and he’s finally ready to admit it. Now he just hopes this rash idea pays off, and Stiles doesn’t kick him to the curb in nothing but his skivvies.

Before he loses his nerve to the low key panic thrumming under his skin, or any of Stiles’ neighbors burst into the hallway on their way to a Halloween bash, he raises his fist and knocks, then kicks his clothes to the side. Inside, Derek can hear the scrape of a chair against linoleum, Stiles’ soft curse as he trips over something, and KC and the Sunshine Band’s _I’m your Boogie Man_ blaring loudly.

The door flies open to reveal Stiles dressed in worn flannel pajama pants and a faded graphic tee. His eyes go comically wide and he trips on the door jam, body spilling out into the hallway.

“Derek?” He squeaks.

“Trick or Treat?”

Stiles reaches out a hand, palm forward, like he is going to grope one of Derek’s boobs, but he pulls the hand back into his chest at the last moment. “What? Dude, what are you doing here and where are your clothes? I'm not complaining, this is definitely a treat. But what the hell is going on?”

“There wasn’t a party this year, so I brought the matching costumes to you.”

Stiles looks like he is worried Derek might have brain damage. “You’re barely wearing clothes. Again, really not complaining, but we definitely do not match.”

Derek points to his tighty-whities. “Briefs,” he tells Stiles, who seems to be distracted by the outline of Derek’s cock under the thin white material. 

“Huh?” He blurts, tearing his gaze away from Derek's groin.

Derek shrugs and smiles. “You’re a lawyer,” he explains. He reaches his thumbs into the elastic at his hips, and snaps the waistband of the undies. “And I’m your brief.”

It takes a moment, but the laughter spills out of Stiles, lilting and sweet. “Holy shit, man.” He hooks his own thumbs into the strap of elastic and tugs Derek into the apartment, slamming the door and abandoning Derek’s clothes in the hallway. “I need to examine this brief very closely. It might take all night, so let's get to it.”

Afterwards, as they are laying together letting their drying sweat cool their overheated skin, Stiles murmurs sleepily, “I wonder what Caitlin and her girlfriend are dressing as this year.”

Derek racks his brain and comes up blank. “Who the hell is Caitlin?”

“You know. Rainbow Brite. Maybe we should call her. She’d be so happy that we finally got together.” Stiles stiffens in Derek’s arms. “I mean… Not that… We don’t have to be _together_ together. This could have just been a bit of fun or-”

“Stiles,” Derek smoothly cuts off Stiles’ growing rant. “I’d really like to be _together_ together, if you would. I want to wear matching couples costumes for as many Halloween’s as you’ll have me.” 

“Derek Hale, that was the lamest line I’ve ever heard.”

“I thought it was pretty boo-tiful.”

“Oh god,” Stiles laughs. “Fine, I’ll date you, as long as you promise you’ll shut up. You should be ashamed, by the way. You’re an actual creature of the night; I expected better from you.”

“Don’t worry. The rest of my come-ons will be fang-tastic.”

“That’s it. No more free broom rides for you.”

“Stiles?” Derek snuggles closer, burying his nose in Stiles’ hair. He can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, Derek?” 

“Happy Halloween”

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who read, commented and left kudos on my Sterek Week 2017 fics! This was my first time doing a fest and it was a blast!!! Come visit me on [tumblr](http://jmeelee.tumblr.com/) anytime.
> 
> This fic had multiple pop culture references and featured the songs:  
> I'm Your Boogeyman by KC and the Sunshine Band  
> Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr  
> Dragula by Rob Zombie  
> Harry Potter and the Mysterious Ticking Noise by Neil Cicierega  
> Monster Mash by Bobby Pickett


End file.
